


Angel Wings At Christmas

by Lurlur



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Christingle, Christmas, Christmas Carols, Christmas Fluff, Christmas market, Drunkenness, Good Omens Holiday Swap 2019, Kissing, M/M, featuring a day trip to germany, victorian christmas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:34:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21813757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lurlur/pseuds/Lurlur
Summary: Gabriel visits Aziraphale one December to ask for his help in saving the true meaning of Christmas. Aziraphale does his best to show Gabriel that what humanity has done with Christmas isn't wrong, just not what was intended. Somewhere along the line, Aziraphale finds that Gabriel is far more than he seems.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Gabriel (Good Omens)
Comments: 17
Kudos: 50
Collections: Good Omens Holiday Swap 2019





	Angel Wings At Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> A million thank yous to everyone who helped me with this fic. To name a few: Pearl09 for the beta work and semi colons, Insominia for screaming at me incoherently, and WyvernQuill for all the German culture, language and folklore! I enjoyed the challenge of writing a relationship that I wouldn't normally consider.
> 
> Happy Holidays to fegeleinantics, I hope I filled your request well enough!

A subtle shift in air pressure and a faintly metallic tang on the tongue announced the arrival of a celestial being in Aziraphale’s shop; an unexpected visitor must have popped in. Aziraphale stood up from his desk and tugged at the bottom of his waistcoat to smooth it before stepping into the main shop area to greet his guest.

“Gabriel! What a pleasure. What can I do for you?”

The Archangel was alone, dressed in a dove grey suit and a matching woollen overcoat. His expression was calm, neutral even, but his hands were clasped in front of him and fidgeting. Aziraphale took note of all of this as he greeted his superior.

“Aziraphale, I require your assistance on a large-scale project we’ve got cooking up. Can we talk here?” Gabriel’s pleasant voice was steady, although his fingers tensed.

Crossing the shop to lock the door and turn the sign to read ‘Closed’, Aziraphale ensured that they wouldn’t be disturbed.

“Of course, please do come back and take a seat.” Aziraphale gestured to the back room and the couch within it. “Can I get you anything to drink? Tea, perhaps?”

Gabriel took off his coat and draped it over the back of the couch.

“No, thank you. Never understood the desire to consume matter as the humans do.” Gabriel shrugged as if to indicate that he didn’t object but just wasn’t interested.

Aziraphale settled in his armchair across from Gabriel, noting the tension that still gripped Gabriel’s hands and shoulders.

“How may I be of assistance?”

“Well, as you know, you’re the only angel to have been stationed on Earth since The Beginning. It’s generally considered that you are the expert on human matters, having been present for their entire history.” Gabriel was rambling, an uncharacteristic behaviour from him.

Aziraphale was beginning to get concerned.

“I daresay I know the behaviours of humanity well enough by now, yes.”

Gabriel cleared his throat and looked at his feet before continuing.

“We need to understand what they’ve done with Christmas! We’re very concerned about the trends we’re seeing, to be honest.” Gabriel blurted, all remnants of his cool and collected act demolished.

Leaning back in his chair, Aziraphale tried to model calm and exude it towards Gabriel.

“What they’ve done with Christmas?” Aziraphale parroted. “I’m not sure I follow.”

With his elbows on his knees, Gabriel leaned towards Aziraphale and pressed his palms together as if in prayer.

“There was a policy decision upstairs, a few years back now, to try and increase the importance of Christmas with the Christian humans. Part of a push towards securing redeemed souls for Heaven, you know.”

Aziraphale nodded. He remembered the memos and the interesting attempts that the assigned angels had made to achieve their goal.

“Christmas has had a massive resurgence in popularity this past decade. I’d say you can mark it as a success.”

Shaking his head, Gabriel looked pained.

“What the humans are doing in the name of Christmas is bizarre and unexpected. They were supposed to go to church, to reflect on the life of the Messiah and his message, to decide to live more wholesome lives. They were not supposed to start bringing trees indoors and eating themselves stupid.”

“Ah, I see the problem,” Aziraphale offered a warm smile. “The humans have used their free will to shape a celebration that doesn’t conform with what was expected. They have a habit of doing that sort of thing.”

“I need to fix this, Aziraphale. This is why I need your help.”

If Aziraphale cared to notice that the nebulous ‘we’ had become a definitive ‘I’, he was good enough not to mention it.

“Naturally, I am at your disposal for this task. Whatever you need.”

Gabriel sagged with relief and finally sat back, letting his corporation relax.

“Thank you, Aziraphale.”

Thinking for a moment, Aziraphale came to a decision.

“Gabriel, you seem stressed. I know that consuming matter doesn’t appeal to you, but have you ever tried alcohol? I think it could be quite useful for you right about now.”

Although Gabriel looked far from convinced, Aziraphale stood and went to fetch a bottle of good red and two glasses. Setting the glasses on the low table between the chairs, Aziraphale pulled a corkscrew from his pocket and opened the wine.

“I don’t think this is a good idea, Aziraphale.” Gabriel’s nose scrunched in distaste.

Ignoring him, Aziraphale poured two generous glasses of wine and settled back into his armchair.

“I suppose I have picked up some human habits, but it is customary to toast a new venture to encourage its success.” Aziraphale picked up the glass nearest to him. “Won’t you indulge me this once?”

Fixing the second glass with a glare that suggested that he feared an attack, Gabriel reached out to pick it up. As soon as the base left the table, Aziraphale clinked his glass against it.

“Cheers! To fixing Christmas!” He took a sip, watching Gabriel over the rim of his glass.

Wide violet eyes flicked between Aziraphale’s face and the wine in front of him. Gabriel slowly lifted the glass to his lips and awkwardly poured a little into his mouth. It was such an unnatural motion that Aziraphale had to hide a smirk behind his hand whilst still watching Gabriel work out how to swallow. Much like a child being given their first sip of alcohol, Gabriel scrunched up his face, smacked his lips, and stuck out his tongue.

“I don’t think I care for that at all.”

Aziraphale stifled a giggle at Gabriel’s scandalised expression.

“It can be an acquired taste, that’s true.” Aziraphale took a second sip and placed his glass back on the table. “Perhaps you might find it more enjoyable if you drank it in a more conventional manner?”

As Gabriel continued to make faces at his glass, Aziraphale moved around to sit beside him on the couch.

“Look, let me help.” Aziraphale raised his hand to cover Gabriel’s fingers on the stem of the wine glass. “Let the rim just rest against your bottom lip like so,” he was guiding the glass as he spoke, “then tip it slowly, that’s it. When you feel the wine touch your lip, just draw a little in and close your mouth.”

Aziraphale was gentle and so careful not to be condescending. He remembered the first time he had tried to drink something offered to him by a human. It had been some kind of fruit juice and he had spilt it all down himself in a panic once he realised that he had no idea how to swallow. Heaven did like to hand out bodies without issuing any kind of manual, or even a pamphlet. Aziraphale had offered to write up some kind of introductory document but had been rebuffed quite soundly.

The second attempt at swallowing was more successful and Gabriel didn’t look as though he had been fed poison, either. Releasing Gabriel’s hand, Aziraphale leaned across the table to retrieve his own glass and bring it closer. The couch was plenty big enough for the two of them, after all.

“Better?” Aziraphale asked.

Gabriel looked doubtful.

“Not as bad as the first taste, but I can’t say I like it. Does it really help with stress?”

Nodding, Aziraphale leaned back into the corner of the couch to get more comfortable.

“Oh yes, I have found it to be quite soothing in moderate quantities.”

Gabriel took another sip; it was as close to an admission of what he was going through as he was likely to give. Diplomatically, Aziraphale decided not to mention it and instead gave his wine glass rather more of his attention.

Gabriel didn’t have the luxury of the alcohol tolerance that Aziraphale had spent centuries building; three glasses in and he was barely able to keep his head up, let alone form coherent sentences. It proved rather difficult for Aziraphale to keep from giggling at him. The bottle had been finished and, although Gabriel looked somewhat mournfully at the bottom of his empty glass, Aziraphale thought it best not to open a second one tonight. Instead, he fetched a glass of water and pressed it into Gabriel’s unsteady hands.

“Drink this, and then maybe you’d like a little lie-down?”

Gabriel mumbled something that might have been an agreement, or it might have been a long-dead language; Aziraphale’s interpretation could go either way. After Gabriel drained the glass, Aziraphale refilled it and left it where Gabriel would be able to reach. The couch didn’t look as though it would accommodate Gabriel’s full length, stretched out for a nap, but it knew better than to inconvenience an Archangel and ignored a few of the more annoying restrictions of reality. After taking Gabriel’s coat to hang it up, Aziraphale returned with a soft, tartan blanket and draped it over Gabriel as he squirmed to get comfortable.

“Wine is good,” Gabriel said with finality as if settling an argument, and promptly fell asleep.

To pass the time as Gabriel slept, Aziraphale wandered the shelves of his bookshop and pulled a few volumes out for perusal. If he was to help Gabriel fix Christmas, he would need to understand the current shape of the festival. Comforted by the gentle, snuffling breaths that came from the couch behind him, Aziraphale read Dickens, Doyle, Buisson, and Scott. He called in a number of periodicals to reference articles praising and damning the popularity and commercialism of Christmas. When the sun began to rise, painting pastel streaks across a pristine canvas, Aziraphale sneaked out on to the street and bought a paper from the lad on the corner. As their breath fogged and mingled in the crisp air, Aziraphale thought warming thoughts towards the boy.

By the time that Gabriel started to rouse, Aziraphale had something of a plan in place as well as a kettle on the stove.

“Tea, Gabriel?” Aziraphale offered as he watched Gabriel negotiate returning to an upright position.

“Ugh, I don’t think so. I’ve consumed enough questionable matter to last an eternity.” Gabriel shielded his eyes against the watery sunlight and groaned.

Aziraphale tutted and set two teacups on his tray anyway.

“It’ll help. I find a good cup of tea to be quite reviving.”

The look that Gabriel gave him would be best described as both withering and distrusting. Wisely, Aziraphale ignored it and brought over his tea tray, setting it down on the coffee table and taking his customary seat in his armchair. As an afterthought, he gave a vague wave towards Gabriel and removed the symptoms of his hangover.

“I have some plans for us today; things that should assist us in fulfilling your mission. Most are local enough but there will be a little travel, so I need you to be tip-top and ship-shape!” As he spoke, Aziraphale placed his hand over the pocket that held his handwritten list of ideas and smiled warmly.

It appeared that Gabriel was not much of a morning angel, at least not after a few glasses of wine. He grudgingly sipped the tea that Aziraphale prepared for him and rubbed at his face every few minutes. His dark hair was sticking up at all angles in a manner that Aziraphale found to be rather fetching; it was pleasing to see the professional and polished exterior slip a little.

By the time they were ready to leave, Gabriel had resumed his usual appearance and demeanour; looking down at Aziraphale both literally and figuratively. A less kind-hearted angel might have commented on the folly of acting so haughty with someone who you’ve asked for help, but Aziraphale didn’t mention it. Not even when Gabriel was stamping his feet and rubbing his hands together after being in the cold for a whole thirty seconds, waiting for Aziraphale to lock up the shop so they could be on their way.

Aziraphale reached into the pocket of his overcoat and produced a pair of gloves and a scarf that almost certainly shouldn’t have fit into the available space. He handed the gloves to Gabriel and reached up to wind the cream-coloured scarf around Gabriel’s neck.

“There, now think warm thoughts and spare some sympathy for the humans who don’t have that luxury,” Aziraphale instructed as he began to walk briskly.

It was a clear, crisp day, the kind that can be a real treat in the depths of winter. The bright blue sky held a few puffs of white cloud high in the atmosphere, frost and old snow clung to the green spaces they passed on their way to the river, people smiled at each other but kept their hands stuffed into pockets and quickly buried their faces back into the snug comfort of their scarves. Aziraphale thought it was a nearly perfect winter day.

They found the river almost exactly as Aziraphale had hoped: a thick sheet of ice spanned the Thames. Children were already upon it, skating, sliding, running, falling, laughing. It seemed like the right place to introduce Gabriel to some of the ideas that Aziraphale wanted them to explore.

“Humans really are inventive creatures. I find them so fascinating.” Aziraphale began, introducing his subject gently. “The winter can be so long and harsh, but they manage to find joy in the most simple things and it helps them to endure the hardships.”

Gabriel hummed in acknowledgement, watching the children chase each other over the ice.

“I’m going to take you on a fact-finding expedition; we’ll find out exactly what is happening with Christmas and why. How does that sound?”

Burying his face in the cream wool around his neck, Gabriel nodded and allowed a smile to show around his startling eyes. Without another word, Aziraphale linked his arm with Gabriel’s and steered them away from the river.

London was dotted with churches of all denominations so it took Aziraphale a few minutes to find the one that he was looking for; his sense of direction relied too often on roads that no longer existed. On an unremarkable street corner, Aziraphale found the grey stone church building he’d read about that morning. Gabriel had been good-natured about the frequent direction changes, but he seemed relieved to be finally heading indoors. The two angels entered the church, arm-in-arm, and were greeted with a blast of warm air scented with orange peel, cinnamon, cloves, and the underlying musty candle-wick smell particular to old churches.

“This is a Christingle service, Gabriel. There aren’t many in England right now but I have a feeling that they are going to become very popular.”

They took a seat in a pew towards the back and watched the service proceed.

“What are the oranges for?” Gabriel asked, dubious.

He pulled the scarf from around his neck and balled it up on the pew next to him.

“They are symbolic,” Aziraphale began, plucking one from the air. “The orange represents the world, with the candle as Christ as the Light of the World. The red ribbon represents His blood, spilt for the sins of humanity. The dried fruits represent the fruits of the world and the four seasons, and the cloves are to remind us of the crown of thorns He wore for humanity.”

Gabriel removed his gloves and took the Christingle from Aziraphale, turning it to inspect it critically.

“It’s an orange with sticks in it.” He said, flatly.

Aziraphale snapped his fingers and the candlelit.

“Look at it with a child’s eyes. Look at the children in here.”

Doing as he was told, Gabriel looked around the church. The congregation was mostly women and children, poorly dressed for the weather and shabby-looking to boot. The children stared at their Christingles in wide-eyed wonder, one or two already picking off a piece of the dried fruit.

“This might be the only treat that many of them get this Christmas. They get to sit in the warm with their mothers, hear the story of how Christ lived for them, and they get a little kindness in return.” As he spoke, Aziraphale caught the eye of a little girl across the aisle and smiled at her.

Fumbling in his pocket for a coin to vanish for her, Aziraphale realised that Gabriel was holding his orange with far more reverence than he had been a moment ago.

“I see,” he said, quietly, gazing into the bright little flame that danced before him.

Glancing at his watch, Aziraphale touched Gabriel’s sleeve.

“We have another appointment to make, I’m afraid.”

They stood and wrapped up for the cold again. Gabriel snuffed the flame and vanished the Christingle discretely as Aziraphale performed some clumsy sleight of hand for the little girl across the aisle, finally pressing the coin into her palm with a smile and a blessing. Trudging back out into the biting cold, Aziraphale took Gabriel’s arm once more and set off with purpose through the winding streets of Westminster. The Houses of Parliament and Westminster Abbey loomed ahead of them, helping Aziraphale to navigate far easier than was usual.

“Another church isn’t going to offer any new insight, Aziraphale. This is wasting time.” Gabriel sounded irritable.

“Patience is a virtue, Gabriel,” Aziraphale responded in a sing-song voice.

On the green before Westminster Abbey stood a towering pine tree covered in baubles and ribbons, glittering in the sunlight. There was snow on some of the higher limbs and caught between tufts of grass. A nearby bench was miraculously free so Aziraphale led Gabriel to it and got them seated. Gabriel grumbled about the cold seeping through his trousers, the wind burning his ears, and the smell of something burning nearby. Aziraphale took a deep breath and found the scent of roasting chestnuts.

“Stay here. I’ll be back in a minute.” He left Gabriel on the bench, shivering to himself.

The chestnut vendor was in a corner of the square, sheltering from the wind as best he could. Aziraphale handed him a few coins and wished him luck with business before hurrying back to the bench, warming his hands on the paper bag of chestnuts.

“Here, hold this.” He held the bag out to Gabriel and dropped it into his hands.

“Warm!” Gabriel’s face lit up and he cradled the bag to his chest.

“Oi, no. You have to share.” Aziraphale reached into Gabriel’s grasp, laughing.

For the next few minutes, Aziraphale taught Gabriel how to get the chestnuts out of their shells and how to tell if a nut was bad before tasting it. There was none of Gabriel’s earlier reluctance about consuming matter; he seemed more interested in learning and the benefit that could be gained from filling his corporation with hot food.

They were so engrossed in sharing out the chestnuts that neither of them noticed the procession emerge from the Abbey doors until it had completely circled the Christmas tree.

“Oh!” Aziraphale nearly bounced with excitement. “This is what I brought you here for!”

Clad in red and white, the choir stood around the tree and awaited the signal from the choirmaster. Aziraphale was torn between watching the young men of the choir and glancing at Gabriel to see how he responded to the show.

Their voices were delightful, clear and perfectly polished. Aziraphale finally allowed himself to close his eyes and just absorb the music. The choir performed some of his favourite carols, hitting the emotional notes in just the right way. The new choirmaster was clearly a very good fit. Beside him, Gabriel had stilled. Nervously, Aziraphale cracked one eye open and was immediately shocked into getting a much better look. Gabriel was weeping, his hands clasped against his chest and the bag of nuts completely forgotten on the bench beside him.

“They sing about us?” Gabriel asked after the choir had finished their performance.

His voice was muted, awed even. Aziraphale touched him on the arm, ever so gently.

“They do. They sing about you most of all, Gabriel.”

“I didn’t know. I didn’t know they were even capable of anything that beautiful. And everyone here was listening and enjoying it together.” Gabriel looked like he wanted to say more but had lost the words.

Aziraphale knew from experience how overwhelming human crowds could be, especially those experiencing something emotive together. He checked the list in his pocket and struggled with a decision. As much as he enjoyed some of the activities on the list, Gabriel needed something different. Perhaps there would be a chance to play flap-dragon later, he hoped. It was rather a lot of fun to stuff flaming raisins into one’s mouth and play at being a dragon with the children.

“Come on, I’m making a change to our itinerary.” Aziraphale tugged at Gabriel’s elbow. “Are you finished with those?” he asked, pointing at the chestnuts.

“Hmm? Oh, yes. They were good though.” Gabriel looked like he had experienced an unwelcome shock; his voice was distant and disconnected.

Aziraphale picked up the bag and gave it a little shake, refilling it with freshly roasted chestnuts. On their way out of the square, he dropped it into the hands of an old woman selling matches.

“Where are we going now?” Gabriel asked as Aziraphale pulled him into a tight alley.

“Nürnberg, Germany. Now, hold tight to me, please. I’ve not done this with two before.” Aziraphale took Gabriel’s hands and wrapped them around himself before taking hold of Gabriel’s shoulders.

“Done what, Aziraphale?”

Before he had finished his question, they were stood in a dark street just off the main market square of  Nürnberg. The mid-afternoon shadows stretched ahead of them, impossibly long in the beginning of dusk.

“ This is one of the best Christmas markets in Europe. There will be a lot of humans here so you need to keep on top of your emotions or they’ll overwhelm you. I think there  are some things that you will really enjoy here.” Aziraphale gave Gabriel an encouraging smile and slowly extracted himself from the embrace they had shared for the travel.

The market square was bright and colourful, even as the sunlight faded. It made Aziraphale forget the chill that crept in around his collar and seeped up through the soles of his shoes. A glance at Gabriel’s awestruck face suggested that he had stopped noticing the cold quite as much as well.

“ Is this all for Christmas?”

“ Yes, most of the time this is an open square with temporary markets. In the run-up to Christmas, the town decorates the whole square and they squeeze every bit of joy that they can out of it.” Aziraphale explained, tucking Gabriel’s hand into his elbow and leading him between the stalls.

Seeing the stall he wanted, Aziraphale picked up his pace only to be suddenly brought to a dead halt. Gabriel was staring up at a golden effigy that hung between two buildings at the edge of the square.

“ What’s that?” Gabriel asked, pulling Aziraphale close so he could point it out.

“ Oh! That’s the Rauschgoldengel! A rather pretty local folk-tale, actually.” Aziraphale settled into his story-telling voice and leaned in towards Gabriel. “Legend has it that there was an old doll maker in town, it was during a very dark time in the town’s history and things were especially bleak. The doll maker’s daughter was very sick, and he was worried for her. As he sat with her and prayed, he heard the fluttering of wings right outside. He ran to look for where the sound had come from but there was nothing around. When he got back to his daughter’s bedside, her fever had broken and she made a full recovery. He made the first Rauschgoldengel in thanks to the angel who answered his prayers. They always have one to welcome people into the market, now. It’s a symbol of hope and love.” Aziraphale felt the glow of his own cheeks at relating the story.

Gabriel hadn’t looked away from the golden effigy with its wide wings and pleated robes.

“ Is it true?” He asked, finally looking at Aziraphale’s shining face. “Did it happen?”

Aziraphale brushed off the question with a wave of his hand.

“ Oh, how would I know? It was probably an owl.”

“ Was it you?” Gabriel asked, his voice low.

Aziraphale looked at Gabriel, gazing straight into his violet eyes and smiling.

“ I couldn’t possibly say, my dear Gabriel.” Aziraphale turned and continued walking to the stall he’d been aiming for.

Of course, he’d been the Nürnberg angel, there were precious few angel-attributed miracles in the world that he hadn’t been behind. Admitting that to Gabriel felt a little too daring right now, although he was starting to suspect that the reputation Gabriel had fostered was perhaps a little bit of exaggeration.

He reached the stall and transacted with the charming woman running it, handing her the coins in his pocket in exchange for two cups of  glühwein .

“ Danke!” Aziraphale turned just in time to see Gabriel approach the stall, having apparently torn himself away from admiring the golden angel.

“ This will keep the cold at bay,” Aziraphale said and handed one cup to Gabriel.

“ Ah, thank you.” Gabriel cradled the drink in his hands and breathed in the rising steam. “More wine?” He asked, wary.

“ Yes, this is heated with spices and fruits to change the flavour. It’s a Christmas staple around here.” Aziraphale took his first sip and closed his eyes, letting the memories of  a hundred of Christmases wash over him.

For a change of pace, Aziraphale let Gabriel lead them around the market stalls and answered his questions about various wares and themes that he found amongst the displays. On the hour, the chiming of the Männleinlaufen startled Gabriel into spilling the dregs of his drink down his coat. Aziraphale miracled away the mess as he pointed towards the front of the church and explained the significance of the clock and its display. Gabriel seemed rapt at Aziraphale’s explanations, watching the procession of figures around the papal statue.

“ Humans came up with this stuff all on their own.” He said at last. “It’s quite marvellous.”

Aziraphale hummed, enjoying the experience of sharing Gabriel’s revelations. Off to one side, Aziraphale spied a gingerbread stall with a scrummy looking collection of lebkuchen that he really didn’t want to try resisting. He put his arm around Gabriel and steered him towards it, picking out his favourites from a distance and wondering how many was too many. Once Gabriel started adding his preferences to the mix, Aziraphale found his anticipated modest bag of treats nearly doubling in size. He sent Gabriel off to get fresh drinks while he paid the very pleased baker and accepted a free sample of Elisenlebkuchen. Gabriel was back at his side before he had a chance to look for him so they wandered to the edge of the square and found a bench for an impromptu picnic.

Partway through his second lebkuchen, Gabriel looked up at the spire beside them. Aziraphale watched him consider it, following the flow of water through the fountain and picking out the figures that decorated it.

“ What’s that?” Gabriel asked, his mouth full of cookie.

“ That’s the Schöner Brunnen, it means beautiful fountain. It has its own story as well.” Aziraphale offered before taking another bite of lebkuchen.

A minute or so of thoughtful silence passed between them, broken only by the slurping gulps of mulled wine.

“ Tell me the story, please, Aziraphale.”

“ Of course. Let’s see, now. It started with a young couple in love, many hundreds of years ago. She was the daughter of a master blacksmith and he was the smith’s apprentice. The master smith didn’t disapprove of the match, exactly, he just wanted to make sure that his daughter would be well taken care of. So he told his apprentice that if he could forge a perfectly seamless ring into the fence for the fountain, then he would allow them to marry. The apprentice knew it was an impossible task, but he wasn’t about to give up on his love. He worked tirelessly for weeks, months, even, trying to forge this perfect ring within the fence.” Aziraphale paused and looked up at the spire before continuing. “Eventually, he managed it. He created a perfect, seamless ring within the fence. The blacksmith was as good as his word and allowed the young couple to marry. They were very happy together for all their years. Now, it is said, that if you spin the ring three times, you can ask for love to find you. The catch is that there are actually two rings in the fence. The shiny one at the front gets all the attention, but the ring that the apprentice made out of love, that’s the plain one at the back.”

He looked back at Gabriel, expecting to see disbelief or derision of a silly superstition. In all his years, Aziraphale had never seen Gabriel look as soft as he did at that moment.

“ What a lovely story.”

Aziraphale smiled and laid his hand on Gabriel’s arm.

“ I’m glad you think so. I always found it rather touching. Come with me; I’ve got an idea.”

With no further explanation, Aziraphale sent the bag of lebkuchen to sit on his desk at home and set off at a brisk pace. He was warmed by two cups of  glühwein  and the tender look Gabriel had treated him to so it took them almost no time to climb the hill to the castle where a giant Christmas tree stood overlooking the town.

“ Look at that. Beautiful, isn’t it?” Aziraphale gestured to the view before them, the town spread out like a tapestry of lights before them.

Gas lamps twinkled and a few bonfires added their dancing light to the atmosphere.

“ It really is. Thank you for showing me this, Aziraphale.”

They stood together and watched the town as the last tinges of daylight disappeared over the horizon. It was a peaceful, clear night. The stars were shining brightly and a gibbous moon cast a silvery light over snow-covered rooftops. Aziraphale felt a great inner contentment that wasn’t entirely due to wine or gingerbread.

“ Aziraphale?” Gabriel sounded conflicted.

“ What’s the matter, Gabriel?” Aziraphale turned his full attention on Gabriel.

“ I get that you’re trying to help me understand what humans are doing with Christmas, but I don’t see the point you’re hoping to make. So little of this is about the birth of Christ. There are ancient pagan traditions everywhere I look. Nothing about this festival seems to be true to the message.” He sounded pained, conflicted.

Aziraphale felt so sorry for him, to think that this wasn’t a celebration worthy of Christ.

“ Far be it for me to try and teach an Archangel how to interpret the work of Christ, but I rather thought that he was in favour of peace, love, joy, charity, that sort of thing?” Aziraphale kept his voice carefully playful.

“ Well, yes. Exactly.” Gabriel seemed confused.

“ Close your eyes, Gabriel. Breathe deep.” He waited for Gabriel to comply. “What do you  _ feel _ ? What have you been surrounded by all day?”

Gabriel choked. His eyes flew open in alarm.

“ They’re all so happy! Even the poor and sick! They are happy and together and loving each other. I don’t understand.” Gabriel all but whined his confusion.

“ For as long as there have been seasons, humans have struggled with winter. It’s cold, dark, miserable, and everything seems dead. They have always had midwinter festivals to remind them that spring will come, that they have plenty to be grateful for in the here and now. It’s an excuse to spend time doing things that make them happy, with people they love. I think it’s an honour that Christ’s birth gets to be associated with the most important human ritual that exists.”

Gabriel drooped, his usually perfect posture dropping into a slouch while he digested this information.

“ I’ve been an ass, haven’t I?” Gabriel said, out of nowhere.

Aziraphale was flustered by the sudden question. It was true that Gabriel had been a bit difficult, but it wasn’t out of malice or ill will, he just hadn’t understood, he’d been scared and stressed. All things that Aziraphale could easily forgive.

“ I wouldn’t put it like that.” Aziraphale ventured, sounding unsure.

The deep boom of Gabriel’s laughter was a pleasant surprise that warmed Aziraphale far more effectively than any amount of  glühwein .

“ Very diplomatic, Aziraphale.” Gabriel beamed at him. “I didn’t understand what you were showing me for too long. I can see now that Heaven doesn’t yet see the bigger picture and it’s caused this idea about Christmas being corrupted. There are deeper human needs that are being fulfilled, Heaven never considers those.”

It was as close to an admission of heavenly fallibility as Aziraphale had ever heard from another angel. It knocked him back, just a touch.

“ I’m glad I could help,” Aziraphale replied, honestly.

Gabriel draped his arm across Aziraphale’s shoulders and gave him a squeeze.

“ Let’s go back down. There’s so much more I want to see.”

They walked together, back down the hill. Gabriel’s arm stayed around Aziraphale the whole way, a comforting weight grounding him to the moment. He let Gabriel lead him around the market once more, admiring the craftwork on display. When the bells chimed again, he watched Gabriel’s face light up as he watched the parade of mechanical figures perform their dance once more. The balcony across the front of the church was suddenly alight with lamps and torches. The last peals died in the crisp air and the crowd took a collective breath as a child clad in white and gold appeared on the balcony, arms spread wide to let their sleeves fall in an approximation of angel wings. Gabriel gripped Aziraphale tighter.

“ Who is that?” His voice a whisper as if he feared breaking the magic of the shared moment.

“ That is the Christkind, every year a local girl is selected to portray the Christkind. She will come down into the square shortly and offer blessings to anyone who seeks them. She is the embodiment of both Christ and the Christmas Spirit, the two are inextricably linked.”

The Christkind had begun to speak, her voice barely audible to the humans who strained to hear her. Aziraphale could hear her perfectly, a glance at Gabriel told him that he wasn’t the only one giving her their full attention. Gabriel’s beautiful eyes were wet with emotion, unshed tears pooling along his lower lashes.

“ Can we meet her?”

“ Of course. We’ll wait until she comes down into the market.” Aziraphale wouldn’t have dreamed of saying no, but the fact that Gabriel had asked and asked so gently was a surprise.

They lingered at the church door, watching as the Christkind emerged and greeted the gathered children. She was graceful and gentle in a way that didn’t quite match with her tender age. Aziraphale found himself quite entranced by her. Once the younger children had dispersed, giggling and talking in loud voices, she approached them, presumably having noticed the attention they were giving her. Aziraphale stepped back, leaving Gabriel to speak to her alone.

"Fröhliche Weihnachten, guter Herr." Said the Christkind, inclining her head towards Gabriel.

(Merry Christmas, kind sir)

"Fröhliche Weihnacht." He responded, his voice stiff.

(Merry Christmas.)

"Ich wünsche Euch eine gesegnete Adventszeit, und einen guten Rutsch ins neue Jahr."

(I wish you a blessed advent, and a happy New Year.)

"Dankeschön." Gabriel looked like a startled rabbit, unsure of how to proceed.

(Thank you very much.)

Aziraphale took half a step forward, anticipating having to rescue Gabriel from his own awkwardness. He felt the subtle power surround them just a second before Gabriel spoke again.

"Und mögen alle Deine Segen die Herzen frommer Christen erfreuen."

(And may all your blessings cheer the hearts of good Christians.)

Gabriel reached forward and took the Christkind’s hand, folding his hands around hers. Aziraphale wondered for a moment where Gabriel’s gloves had gone. The girl looked wide-eyed and overwhelmed; she was trying to pull her hand away without panicking and Aziraphale realised that Gabriel was overloading her. He stepped forward and smoothly broke the contact between them.

"Fröhliche Weihnacht." He smiled warmly at the Christkind, soothing over the ragged edges that Gabriel’s unpractised hand had left.

Dazed, she smiled back into Aziraphale’s kind face before wandering off towards another group and offering her blessings.

“ That is more difficult than it looks.” Gabriel said regretfully.

“ For a first attempt, you were wonderful. When I did my first blessing, the poor woman went mute for a full month.” Aziraphale wound his arm around Gabriel’s waist and led him away from the square as he spoke.

“ I’m sure that wasn’t in your report.” Gabriel joked, the laugh removing any sting from his voice.

Aziraphale relaxed. Taking a left turn, Aziraphale steered them into a quiet side street.

“ Time to go, I think.” Aziraphale gripped Gabriel again, holding their chests together.

He waited to feel Gabriel’s hands on his shoulders before whisking them back to London.

It was raining in London when they arrived. Aziraphale flailed for a reason explaining why he hadn’t placed them directly in the bookshop. He grabbed Gabriel’s hand and dashed across the road, trying to dodge the worst of the puddles as he dragged Gabriel behind him and into the dry safety of the shop. Gabriel shook a rain-clouds worth of water from his coat and hair, sending drops splashing across the rug and floorboards. Fortunately, none of the rainwater was daft enough to dare touching any of the precariously balanced books.

“ I’m drenched.” Even Gabriel’s voice sounded sodden.

Aziraphale concentrated for a moment and snapped his fingers. A fire sprang up in the fireplace, a pan of milk appeared on the stove and began to warm through, the couch now faced the fire with a long footstool between the two, and both their coats were hung on the coat stand by the door.

“ Come here.” Aziraphale held his hand out towards Gabriel, a fact he only registered when Gabriel closed his fingers around it.

Aziraphale looked at their joined hands in dumb shock for a moment before smiling up at Gabriel and leading him the rest of the way to the couch. Indicating that Gabriel should sit, Aziraphale kicked his shoes off and wriggled his toes around wet socks, his nose scrunching in displeasure. He reached for Gabriel’s calves and pulled up one leg at a time to pull off his waterlogged shoes. After setting the shoes near the fire to dry out, Aziraphale prepared two cups of hot cocoa and handed one to Gabriel.

“ Put your feet up here,” Aziraphale patted the footstool. “The fire will dry your socks and you’ll be cosy in no time.”

He sat beside Gabriel and took a sip of his cocoa, giving a happy little wiggle and then followed his own advice for warming his wet feet. It was comfortable, this silence, the only sounds were the rain on the windowpanes and the crackle of the fire. Aziraphale found himself feeling deeply content. When his cocoa ran dry, he twisted round to put the empty cup on the little side table to his left. He felt the shift of the couch under Gabriel’s weight behind him and turned back to see what was happening.

“ Oh!” Aziraphale started at finding Gabriel a lot closer than he anticipated and looking at him intently.

“ Thank you for today, Aziraphale. It means a lot.” Gabriel’s voice was thick, like it was sticking in his throat.

Aziraphale beamed his most angelic smile, projecting just how thoroughly pleased he was with himself. Then Gabriel kissed him. The shock froze Aziraphale in place for a fraction of a second too long. By the time he could process what had happened, Gabriel had begun to pull away, a regretful apology already taking shape. Trying to calm his racing thoughts, Aziraphale found himself wanting Gabriel to kiss him again. He’d been surprised, that’s all. The softer, caring side of Gabriel that he’d seen that day was someone who he desperately wanted to know better. Before he knew what he was doing, Aziraphale reached for Gabriel’s lapels and pulled him forwards to connect their lips again. The kiss was tentative and exploratory, a cautious testing of their limitations. When they broke apart, Gabriel’s cheeks were flushed pink. Aziraphale brushed his fingers through dark hair and lost himself in violet eyes.

“ What now?” Gabriel asked, biting his bottom lip nervously.

Recognising the familiar fear of rushing something precious, Aziraphale pushed his own wants down and allowed himself to feel for what Gabriel needed.

“ Come, my dear, rest your head in my lap and I will read to you.”

With a volume of Christmas ghost stories in one hand and combing through soft hair with the other, Aziraphale read to Gabriel through the night and got used to the feeling of being adored.


End file.
